


New Blood

by rothalion



Category: Army Of Two
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 17:44:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19480867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rothalion/pseuds/rothalion
Summary: This is a rambling foray into my take on post Shanghai. I haven't written anything taking place during that time period, but I have had some of these ideas in my head and notes since before The Devils Cartel. It will be a verse based upon some assumptions and my ideas as to what may have happened. They are not canon but built upon the idea that TWO did survive the Shanghai disaster. I have several chapters written for this, but I am not sure exactly how it will play out story-wise. It might be more of a collection of scenes than a complete tale. Anyway, I hope regardless of the new ideas that you all enjoy it.





	1. Chapter 1

“Alright, listen up,” Rios barked silencing the eight people seated around the twelve foot long, oval, tech enhanced conference table. “Asked you all here this morning to clear up some gossip and some chatter that has been circulating lately. Clear communication is imperative for successful ops, and this company thrives on its successes. The gossip concerns the man who will occupy that seat,” he paused and pointed to the empty chair to his immediate right, “once again, for the first time in nearly two years. He held that position, my right hand, for nearly two decades, and now I have, we have him back.”

A grumble circulated round the room, and Rios allowed it. _Let them express their shock, _he thought, _clear the air, then we can move on._ Eventually, the room quieted again, and he looked them all over. They were the new TWO, the post Shanghai TWO, and with Salem and Murray absent, they’d been the new core. In an effort to ease the transition, he’d told them very little about Shanghai, about Salem. __

__“When, when will Mr. Salem be returning?” Ray Selkirk Chief Technology Officer and the youngest of the team, at only seventeen, asked, flipping open a small notebook and taking a pen from behind his left ear, “I’ll like need to get with him to like set him up on the biometric systems. Well, depending, like, I suppose, on the access level that you like want him to have.”_ _

__“Full, and he will be here in thirty mikes. Do it as soon as we finish up, here. Hopper?”__

 _ _Hopper was TWO’s Chief Missions Operations officer, “In what capacity is he coming back, exactly? I mean considering his disa…”_ _

__“Disability?” Rios growled annoyed at the label._ _

__“Well, his…injuries. We, the company, most folks have heard that his injury, uries was…were substantial, two years of rehab before he came back, so…”_ _

__Rios eyed the graying mission runner, he wasn’t Murray, but he was damned good, and he’d built a highly skilled team._ _

__“Still to be determined. The gossip runs the gamut, lately. I want it quashed before he gets here. His injuries were grave, but he has worked diligently to overcome them and get back in the game. Next question. Selkirk?”_ _

__“I just arranged his escort. I assume that since you are already here that’s suitable.”_ _

__“It is.”_ _

__“Is he, are you two still willing to work together. Shanghai, the new revelations about it anyway, must have been devastating between you. Is it true that he blames you for his current condition?” Caroline Dietrich Chief Personnel officer asked._ _

__“Is it true that he did not know what truly occurred until the whistle blower news release last week?” Rafe Mendoza, Chief of Flight operations pressed ._ _

__Finally, Killian Sharp, Chief Stateside Procurement officer spat out angrily, “Can he be trusted? Can we trust you? You lied to your _right hand man._ Lied several times over two decades, if the rumors, the stories, myths are true. Why should we trust you? In case you haven’t noticed, sir, moral is a tad sketchy right now. Our squeaky clean image a tad tarnished, and our stock down seven and a half points, all caused by that son-of-bitch pilot’s revelations.” _ _

__The group started bickering again, and Rios whistled to regain control._ _

__“To answer all of the above; Yes, for Elliot’s well being, I chose to keep him in the dark about the outcome of Shanghai. I always intended to tell him. It, that conversation, just never transpired. Yes, we have spoken at great length, since the UN chopper pilot gave his phone recording of my in-flight debrief to Fox news. We have hashed that all out. Medical and psych have finally both cleared Salem for duty. He is healthy, fit and ready to come back and be my partner once again. Trust. Yes, categorically. Our issues will never interfere with TWO’s success. As for the debrief release, the decisions surrounding Shanghai were deemed a matter of national security by every alphabet agency that had a hand in the situation. Yes, I did use it to shield him from the truth. He was not in a good place, physically or mentally. I was trying to protect him. We spent years protecting one another, and it just seemed the most natural, equatable decision at the time.”_ _

__“So… it is…is true, you shot him.” Hopper, asked hesitantly. Then shaking his head, “You _actually did_ shoot him.” _ _

__Rios crossed his arms on his chest and leaned back. Shanghai was not a memory that he enjoyed visiting, and Salem’s reaction to discovering the truth was just as raw._ _

__“I made the best tactical decision possible for the situation. Salem paid a heavy price for it, but that was how we rolled. He knows that, and has come to terms with my decision. Salem…”_ _

__“Da, but now elephant in room,” Petya Lavrov snarled contemptuously in broken, heavily accented English through his badly scared lips, “Would he…have shoot you?”_ _

__Rios looked around the table locking eyes with each operator stopping at Petya, a small boned, wiry ex-French Foreign Legion Tanker, known by the other operators as Xarek, (Kharok) meaning ferret, in his native Russian. He had recently been badly wounded during a close protection op in Spain, while extracting his charge after an attack. The high speed chase, through a mountain pass, had ended with horrific vehicle crash disfiguring him and shattering his spine. After many hours of argument, he’d finally agreed to a non-operational position as Chief Ground Transport officer overseeing all ground transport operations. He was also the most cynical man that Rios had ever encountered, putting him on par with Salem’s current mindset. He would need to closely monitor how the pair interacted. Rios did not relish Xarak’s attitude polluting Salem’s, when the man was mentally finally turning the corner._ _

__“No, Xarak. Salem would have sacrificed 7 million people, without batting an eye, to save me, of that fact have no doubt,” he said definitively before glancing at his watch, “Which was why _I made the decision for him_. Anything else? Good. First item up, when he gets here, is the South African missionary extraction. Get those briefs ready.” _ _

__Five minutes later, the door hissed open, and all heads turned to see Salem rolling into the room and around the table. With a nod, he deftly maneuvered the light weight, anodized red wheelchair into position next to the empty desk chair. Then he locked the wheels and levered himself from one chair to the other. Finally, he slid under the table edge, spun the wheelchair around, and after removing a small pile of folders from the black saddle bag hanging between the handles, he dropped the folders down in front of himself._ _

__“Welcome home, Ellie. Introductions first. Selkirk, start us off.”_ _

__Introductions went round the table, circling back to Rios. He looked at the man seated to his right and nodded._ _

__Salem cleared his voice and sat up straighter, “Salem. Guess my reputation precedes me, though. Been away a while, so I hope I can depend on you guys to catch me up. I’ve been studying up on current and past ops trying to get a handle on how ops have changed, advanced. I, ah, know that I have a lot to prove, but I’m up to the challenge. Ah, Selkirk, Selkirk right?”_ _

__“Yes, sir. Call me Bits. Everyone does.”_ _

__“Bits, right, call me Salem. I’m gonna need some time with you to get up to speed on these new systems.”_ _

__“No problem, sir. We need to like get you into the Biometrics system, like right after this meeting. After that, I’m like all yours. I can like delegate my afternoon stuff to the team.”_ _

__“Sounds good, Bits. Is it true that you trained under Rios’ old buddy Section Eight,?”_ _

__“Yes, sir, Salem, like, yea, I did. He’s like a genius,” Selkirk said beaming, “When your rep got me out of federal prison, and hooked me like up with this wicked gig and had Eight train me it saved me. So, like whatever you need bro, I’m like your dude.”_ _

__“Good. Glad to hear it.”_ _

__“But, like if you can scoot back, I need to like log you into the table.”_ _

__Salem laughed and pushed back from the table, “Remind me, kid, to tell you a story about tech tables. There you go, log me in, Bits.”_ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The new team tries to come to terms with Salem's sudden arrival, by airing their concerns and doubts._

Four hours later, the group wandered one by one into the cafeteria. They plopped down into their chairs and picked at their food. The morning had been stressful, and the team looked forward to even just an hour of relaxation. The sudden and unexpected return of Salem to TWO had stunned them all. Bits’ arrival jolted them from their private thoughts.

“Sup, parental units?” he said cheerfully with his usual enthusiasm, “Boy, like Salem is fucking awesome.” 

The table went silent, and all eyes turned to the skinny, five-foot five inch tall tech wiz watching as he gulped down his mac and cheese, slathered with catsup, seemingly oblivious to their scrutiny. 

“He’s smart and polite and patient. And like tell you what, he’s like not nearly as out of touch as he like made out to be. Like he…” 

“Like! Like, like, like!” Xarek snapped waving his arms in the air, “Why with you is always this like?” 

“I like…” 

Petya slapped Bits across the back of his head. A traditional French Foreign Legion punishment, it hurt and got the attention of its victim. 

“Ouch! Bastard!” 

“Each time Bits say like, Xarek smacks. Soon you learn. Soon no more this like. Da?” 

“Da!” 

“Enough, you two,” Killian said cutting, Bits off, “Salem, what did Salem have to say about what his job’s going to be?” 

“He didn’t.” 

“Nothing?” Hopper pressed, “I don’t really think that I need him in ops.” 

“No, we set up his biometric stuff, I talked him through the systems and that’s it, really. Like…Don’t!” he screeched ducking away from Xarak’s slap, “I-am-trying. He’s just trying to fit in.” 

“He looks a lot different than the old photos in the archive room and in the old training videos. Not as bulked up, tired.” Caroline said sadly. 

“He has been in chair for two years, Da. Takes toll, nyet.” 

“Yea, he’s still I great shape though, I bet,” Killian added, “I don’t think we should underestimate him.” 

“What exactly are you afraid of, Killian, job scared?” 

“Fuck you, Rafe. You have your head so far up Rios ass…” 

“I am training him to fly choppers, Killian. So, yea between that and growing the fleet we spend a lot of time together.” 

“So, if not ops, then what?” 

“I li…I don’t think he’s really that worried about it. I think he’s just glad to be back,” Bits said eyeing Xarek’s pecan brownie, “Gonna eat that?” 

“Take it, Idiot Child.” Xarak growled, “You, Dr. Kamiko, what is your opinion professional?” 

“Professional opinion,” Bits corrected chewing a mouthful of the chocolate desert. 

“Boy!” 

“I have no idea about his medical status. I am not his doctor,” Kamiko stated bluntly. 

“They must have consulted you.” 

“No, Hopper they did not.” 

“You are Chief Medical Officer, Kamiko. You must know something, there must be chatter.” 

“Killian, all I know is what the rumor mill spins, just like you. He is still nearly a year out from walking, if at all. That the bullet fired by…well now we know that it was fired by Rios, fragmented and bits struck his spine and that some are lodged very near it. That it destroyed half of his liver and part of his right lung. I was just as shocked, if not more so, than you all when he wheeled into the meeting. I was unaware that he was even in a wheelchair. That is all I know, and I should not have shared that. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to eat in peace.” 

The table watched, as the petite woman dug back into her meal of fresh mackerel and bean sprout with tofu salad. Of the team, she was by far the most insular. Part of it was the nature of her job, the secrecy it required to protect the mens’ privacy. Still it was surprising that Rios hadn’t brought the former trauma surgeon into the loop. 

“See, there you have it, more of that fucker Rios’ shady bull shit. We are the inner circle, the command and control group, and he just did this unilaterally, not a word, not even with medical. Medical, the department that he always emphasizes takes priority for the benefit of our operators. I just don’t know how much we can trust him anymore.” 

“Killian, what we don’t need is divisiveness.” Caroline the quiet one of the group said a bit meekly. 

“Like, right? Caroline’s right. I’m telling you, Salem’s the shit. He’s only gonna make TWO better.” 

“So, Idiot Child, does this mean love affair with Section Eight is like ended?” 

The table laughed at Xarak’s rare joke. The man’s demeanor had darkened dramatically after his accident. The client had been only slightly injured, despite the severity of the crash. Xarak had done his job, but like Salem he’d paid a heavy price.” 

“Like yea, maybe. Maybe, I am just being just a bit of a fan boy, but I’m li…damn it! I’m telling you he’s legit.” 

“Legit or not, he’s back. We just need to figure out how to deal with the changes, because believe me they’re coming. No way he comes back and Rios just keeps him sidelined. They were too tight for too long. That kind of bond doesn’t break easily.” 

“Bond should have died when Rios put bullet in him,” Xarak grumbled, “in this life trust is everything.” 

“Not our concern,” Rafe said coldly, “Rios isn’t paying us to worry about their relationship. Stay focused on your jobs.” 

“He seemed happy to be back but maybe a little nervous really,” Bits said taking off his TWO emblazoned operator’s cap and putting it on backwards. 

“Seriously, Bits. _The_ Elliot Salem nervous about his first day on the job?” 

“Seriously, Hop, he seemed like, sorry Xarek, like he was happy but also cowed a bit. He knows, I think, that him coming back is a big thing, that TWO isn’t what it was before Shanghai. He knows.” 

“Well, he damn sure isn’t doing any field work, totally non-operational. That means maybe a mission runner,” Killian speculated, “Hopper, he’d be a good asset for you and your guys, no. So many years on the hot end of ops had to give him a great eye for running guys.” 

“A lot has changed, since he was in the game. I’d have to bring him on line slowly. And no, some guys just don’t transition well. It’s a huge difference, you know.” 

“He’d be a valuable asset in recruitment. I’d look forward to hearing his insights on what makes a good operator.” 

“Caroline, he’s always been a loose canon, not sure that makes for the best judge of character. You’ve heard, we have all heard the stories about his exploits. Besides who’d he ever really work with? It was always just them.” 

“Well not really. They had an entire team. Hell Giddy, Heckler and M.I.T are still a team.” 

“Well then, Killian you can use him in procurement. If half the stories are true, he was a superb thief as a kid and well into adult hood. A real beast at obtaining the unobtainable.” 

Killian tossed his napkin over his tray, leaned back in the plastic chair and ran his hands back through his hair. “The last thing that I need is an unstable, cynical, wheelchair bound thief, Caroline.” 

“Jesus, Killian that’s harsh! Even coming from you,” Rafe snarled “We shouldn’t even be talking about this shit. Grow up and sort yourselves out before the evening brief, right. We’re professionals, act it.” 

“Well, aren’t you peeved? Is it ‘cause you know that he damned sure won’t be doing any piloting. Your department is safe, Rafe. Kamiko, can I have your carrot cake?” 

“Take it, Bits. Listen folks, lets just play this all by ear. Psych and medical both cleared him. More importantly Rios cleared him, and he knows Salem the best,” Kamiko said standing up, “It’s my job to take care of the guys, and now that Salem is one of us I will take care of him too. And Rafe the idiot does have a point. So, see you all later.” 

The group mumbled its goodbyes and watched the medical officer saunter away weaving through the crowded, noisy area her waist long, straight, jet black hair swishing back and forth. 

“Say something about her ass, Idiot Child, and I will cut off your tiny cock and chop into bits.” 

“But, Xarek,” Bits whined, “It’s such a nice ass.” 

“Raymond Selkirk!” Caroline hissed, “I won’t tolerate that kind of talk and neither would Mr. Rios.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Finish your cake, and get back to work.” 

“Done and done. Later, buds.” 

“I have to get going too,” the heavy set, red head said standing up and sliding in her chair, “that boy needs a firm hand. We should probably keep him away from Salem. He is too impressionable. He’s actually wearing his hat backwards like Salem was, and despite my opinion that he’d be insightful in finding talent, Salem isn’t exactly mentor material for a rudderless, immature tech genius. So, Mr. Lavrov, I will leave that to you and your…well knowledgable touch,” she said smiling and holding her right hand out as if preparing to slap someone. 

The three remaining men, watched Caroline follow Bits out of the room. All were blooded veterans with years of operational duty between them. Killian and Rafe had taken non-operational roles voluntarily, decisions that Xarak struggled to understand. He lived and breathed the intensity of battle. 

“Ideas, anyone?” Rafe asked stroking his goatee. 

“Nyet, no. Is what is,” Xarak said shrugging, “His mind is broken. I have seen this before in men. Six maybe eight months, Salem is gone back to home.” 

“So, we all just march along like little soldiers off the cliff of craziness. Between this, Rios’ shady shit and the Fox report dragging our stock price down, I’m not feeling very confident in TWO right now. Fuck, DBA is always hiring, I guess.” 

“No, Killian, we stay put, and see what happens. Rios and Stockwell are already spinning the Fox mess. TWO has pretty deep pockets. We have plenty of work on the books, and don’t forget the chopper fleet. There’s always a need for high security flights.” Rafe explained. 

“Salem coming back isn’t problem. Image is problem. Fucking Rios isn’t idiot. Think! Now the shiny TWO ad says, It is _perfect_ spin. Salem, Rios can control and Rios will.” 

“Well, that’s that I guess,” Killian sighed pushing his tray away, “Salem’s back, TWO will get back on track, and if history is an indicator chaos will ensue. I’m off to procure us some straight jackets. See you later, boys.” 

Rafe stood up, stacked the remaining trays and sighed, “Later, Xarek” 

The Russian watched the pilot walk away. Wondering if he was the only one willing to give Salem a chance? Caroline had also seemed open minded. The boy, Bits, didn’t count, he was too starstruck. Then after further consideration he sighed, in actuality he truly didn’t give Salem much of a chance either, but despite everything that Salem may have been the man had always been a remarkable fighter. As he stood from the table, he smiled through his torn lips. He wanted to like the broken operator and he hoped that his assessment had been incorrect, “Make me liar, Elliot Salem, Make me liar.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Salem discovers his new work space and begins coming to terms with hnis decision to rejoin TWO._

Salem rolled his wheelchair down the marble clad hallway of the executive floor trying to quell the butterflies dancing in his stomach. The knowing glances of passing employees and the unique smell of the air in a building housing a PMC did little ease his roiling gut. It was a mix of sweat, sulfur and oils that even Rios’ newly acquired zeal for luxury and a state of the art air handling system had failed to mask. He was disappointed that he felt so nervous. Granted he wasn’t exactly as fearless as he had been in his younger years, but simply going in to work had never made him feel so tense and insecure. It was, he supposed, a part of his on-going battle with PTSD. As much as he hated to believe Vasily’s assessment of his mental state, Shanghai had definitely broken something in him, and even two years later he was still suffering its effect.

When he reached the end of the hall, he turned left and with long deft strokes powered the custom made chair effortlessly along. At first he’d refused to accept the chair, not able to admit that he would need one for longer than a few weeks. But when weeks of intense therapy slipped into months, he relented. It was, as Vasily tried to convince him, just a tool, just like a gun or any other item of kit. Salem did agree, but the admission that he needed it long enough to warrant customization was the equivalent of accepting his disability, something that he still was not entirely comfortable with. 

Halfway down the hallway, he slowed to a stop in front of the desired door on the right hand corner. _Mr. Elliot Salem_ , was engraved in two inch tall, silver letters on a oval shaped, black marble nameplate framed in shiny brass to the right of the entry. There was room below his name for his eventual title. Rios had gone all out. Salem didn’t buy into such frivolities. He was Salem. Not Mr. Salem, just Salem. He’d been stunned when Bits informed him that Rios demanded that the operators and operations officers call him Mr. Rios. That would not be happening with him. Salem suited his ego quite well. Especially since what ego he actually had left was in tatters. 

Taking a deep breath, he tugged off his well worn fingerless glove, reached up and pressed his right palm against the biometric scanner. The door, like all of the doors, also had a retinal scanner, but Bits had disabled it until they figured out a way for Salem to reach it without standing. For the time being the tech had created an override that allowed just Salem’s hand print to work all points of entry. The door hissed open, and for a long moment he just sat there staring into the darkened room. Vasily had made him promise that if the job, more accurately Rios, started chipping away at him again he’d resign. Sitting there now, staring into the abyss, he wondered if he could keep that promise. He loved Vasily with all of his heart, but Rios too held a part of it that even after years of therapy and deceit he couldn’t seem to cut out. They’d reached a compromise of sorts after Shanghai, and he lived either in Osijek, Croatia or in Florida with Vasily, only visiting Rios for short stretches when Vasily was away. Now, though, he was afraid that once him and Rios fell back into old patterns the intense need to protect and please Rios would reemerge, like an addiction to a junkie. It was exactly that too. Salem had suffered addiction, and he knew how it felt, and how it clawed away at you until you grasped onto whatever food fed it again. That was what terrified him. Rios was his heroin, his alcohol, his addiction, and he didn’t know if he could walk away a second time. Vasily, though, had been clear. If the situation deteriorated and Salem chose Rios, then they were finished. He doubted that the big Russian meant it, but he did not want to have to test his theory. 

Resolved, he gave the canted wheels a long push, and the red chair glided silently into the large corner office. Bits had instructed him that all of the room’s systems were voice activated and after a short while the system, called Mars after the god of war, would learn his voice and follow his orders quite quickly. He told the tech officer that he would prefer just hitting a switch, but Bits had shrugged explaining that short of a system wide failure the switches were obsolete. That Mr. Rios ran a state of the art facility. Feeling self-conscious, he looked over his shoulder into the hall, rolled a bit further into the room and firmly ordered, “Mars, lights on.” 

The lights flickered on, and he turned the chair in a circle inspecting the voluminous space in the soft lighting. The floor to ceiling windows were blacked out, and he tried to recall the command to lighten the tint. 

“Mars, close entry. Mars, full sun.” 

The door hissed closed and the tinting on the huge windows gradually bled away, letting the high desert sunshine in. The view was spectacular. Eight floors below and over a mile away was the flight line and beyond that the mountains, still snow capped at the highest elevations, the bright white pristine against the teal blue sky. Salem rolled over and stared out across the property. That it was all theirs still staggered his imagination. 14,757 acres of desert, mountain and forest, all theirs. It was almost too much. He’d be happy just to have his little condo on the beach back, and his cubicle and tiny desk at TWO’s old HQ. TWO had become a vast writhing Medusa like creature that he didn’t, couldn’t understand anymore. He lingered long enough to watch a TWO logo marked chopper come in and lift off again practicing a rapid insertion drill. It was a rough attempt, but with work the pilot would get it eventually. 

“Mars, half sun.” 

As the windows followed his command, he rolled up to his new desk. The U-shaped, mahogany lump was befittingly, he supposed by Rios’ new standards, huge enough. Like the conference room table it had a touch keypad built in and a monitor that folded away into the surface. Another name plate sat on the left hand corner, as if anyone coming to see him might forget whose office they were in during the short walk from the hall. Along the left wall was a bank of eight fifty-five inch monitors and below that a rack filled with blinking comms gear. The right hand wall held a coffee service, bar with a small refrigerator and tall book shelves. Rolling over, he moved through the open door next to the shelving into a sleeping area with an ensuite bathroom replete with everything he needed to access it with his disabilities. Salem judged the entire office space to be approximately 1000 square feet, about the size of his old condo. As he powered the wheelchair back to his desk, he chuckled, if his office was this large how the hell big was Mr. Rios’? 

Since he was expecting Bits to come by and finish setting up his access codes, Salem shifted from his wheelchair to his desk chair. As long as his pain level was low, and he wasn’t over-tired he could maneuver around the office on his forearm crutches. How long he could walk varied day to day, but he tried to do all of his indoor activity up on his feet. He reached out and pushed down gently on the twenty-two inch wide, high definition monitor. It clicked and then rotated up and out of the desk top. Then, he tapped the keyboard to wake it up. The screen populated with a menu of icons superimposed on the TWO logo which was in turn super-imposed upon a side scrolling video of various combat tactics that TWO was capable of providing. He stared at it, and a wave of anxiety rushed through him. His heart started to race, his chest felt tight and his vision started to twinkle. Salem closed his eyes and took deep, practiced breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. When he finally felt some control, he dragged out his cell phone, hit number two and waited. Three rings later, 

“Barsuhk.” 

“Fuck, Vasily. Am I glad you picked up.” Salem blurted out breathlessly. 

Hearing the near panic in Elliot’s voice, the big Russian softened his tone, “Everything okay, Ilushka?” 

“Yea, I just needed to hear your voice, Vasya. This place is…is big. I mean I knew it was big, saw pictures, knew the company had grown, but…” 

“I can still fly out, Ilushka.” 

“It’s just that Tyse he’s got all these high and mighty ideas that I didn’t know about. I, my office is bigger than our Osijek home, Vasya, and the guys...I think, I think I might not belong here anymore.” 

“I’m on the next flight, Ilushka. I will hop a charter out of Davenport, straight to the facility, be there in time to pick you up from work,” he said, then, when Salem made no response, “Ilushka, talk to me. Did you hear me? I am on my way, Ilushka.” 

“I, ah, yea, yea, on the way. I can’t believe that you’d come though. I…glad, I’m glad. Thanks, Vasya. Thank you.” 

“You are welcome, Ilushka, and remember I love you. See you soon.” “Too, love you too. Soon, okay soon. Soon is good.” 

Salem tossed the phone onto the desk, followed by his hat, leaned back into the supple leather chair, scrubbed his trembling hands up and down his stubble clad cheeks and then back through his hair. He was suddenly and inexorably exhausted. In between his spread index and middle fingers, he stared, with blood shot eyes, at the icons populating the home screen. He wasn’t exactly tech ignorant, but it all seemed so overwhelming. Frowning, he forced himself to focus on the thumbnails, and they began making sense. He settled upon an antennae shaped icon labeled inter-office comms. Reaching out, Salem touched the icon with his index finger, and a new screen opened up with a company directory itemized by department. Out of the corner of his right eye, he noticed a small dialogue bubble pop up. _To locate an operator say: Mars, locate-the operator’s name-last name first-first name last._

“Interesting,” he mused to the empty room. Then, “Mars, locate Rios, Tyson.” 

“Mr. Salem,” a male voice began deliberately, “Mr. Rios is currently in a meeting in conference room zulu. Time of completion, 1515 hours.” 

“Mars, locate,” he scanned down the register, “Selkirk, Raymond.” 

“Mr. Salem, Mr. Selkirk is currently in a meeting in tech lab Delta. Time of completion, 1445 hours.” 

He leaned back again, and considered his situation. He had nearly three hours before Bits’ visit and four, if he was lucky, for Rios’ ear and nothing on his agenda. Bits had given him a few tasks to complete, but none would take very long. Salem reviewed his _homework_. Log in to his private account, create a name for his personal assistant, and the last was to, as the kid phrased it, _Like chill the fuck out, Mr. Salem._

“Chill the fuck out, Mr. Salem. From the mouths of babes. Okay, then login it is.” 

He reached over and pulled his chair closer, and after spinning it around dug his information packet out of the saddle bag. Plundering through it, Salem found the login instructions. Following them, he swiped the screen, opened the appropriate page and studied it. Mars’ voice startled him. 

“Greetings, Mr. Salem. Please enter the provided password in the allocated area.” 

“The fuck?” 

He typed the fifteen character string of gibberish in and waited. 

“Mr. Salem, welcome to your personal server. At this time, please create a new fifteen character password using upper and lower case letters, numbers, and symbols that is unique and that you can recall.” 

Salem flopped back and thought about it. Fifteen characters was a stretch. He leaned forward on his elbows and stared at the screen. Then he noticed his newest tattoo. A six and a half inch tall red jester on the inside of his left bicep. Nodding, he typed in, _zoorchootZ_107^_. Pleased, he sat back and waited. 

“Mr. Salem…” 

“Stop the Mister shit, Mars!” 

“Mr. Salem, I am sorry. I did not understand that command.” 

“Fucking technology.” 

“Mr. Salem, please re-enter your chosen password choice for confirmation.” 

He did, and the screen went black, filled with the TWO logo, and then returned to the home screen. 

“Mr. Salem, your login setup is complete. Please choose a name, gender and voice for your personal assistant.” 

He clicked male, listened to the first eight of the twenty supplied voices, grew bored with the process, chose number five, and then pondered a name. It would replace Mars, and it was the first technological advancement that actually pleased him, so far that morning. Mars was too arrogant, and he’d learned long ago that arrogance had no place in war. 

Leaning forward he typed in; _Barrett_. It seemed fitting. His Barrett was the most reliable friend that he’d ever had. It had helped him out of countless situations and had never let him down. 

The screen again went black, returned to the TWO screen and Mars piped up. 

“Mr. Salem, you may now address the system as Barrett. The final step will map your voice patterns for the voice recognition system. Please read the following paragraph in a natural voice. Begin when you are ready by addressing the system as Barrett.” 

Elliot glossed over the paragraph, and read it trying hard to mask the frustration he was feeling. The screen repeated the black to logo routine, and then as the home screen opened up so did the monitors lining the left wall. He spun the desk chair counter clockwise and studied them. The first was a scrolling list of active ops. He watched the feed go around once, and then quickly looked over the other seven. The information stream proved to be too much too soon, and Salem wondered how to shut it all down. 

“Barrett, close main monitors.” 

The monitors all shifted to screen savers, showing the now all too familiar TWO logo, and Salem laughed aloud. 

“Fuck me twice, Rios. Ever get sick of tooting your own horn?” 

With his homework completed and time to spare, Salem decided to take a well deserved nap. He walked with his crutches into the bedroom and stretched out on the edge of the king sized bed. Then he rolled onto his left side and exhaled a deep breath. 

“Barrett, set alarm for two hours from now. And lights off, zero sunlight.” 

“Mr. Salem, alarm is set.” 

“Thank you, Barrett.” He muttered sleepily, shut his eyes and was asleep in moments.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Rios reacts to Salem's call to Vasily, and Salem is thrown by a new development with TWO tech._

Rios spun back to the twelve o’clock position of his desk and tapped rapidly on the keyboard, while talking to the small microphone tucked just in front of his chin. The Roost was the circular control hub located on the ninth, tenth and eleventh floors of Two Headquarters West. The three story tall, 360 degree concentric, ballistic glass walled center provided a full panoramic of the exterior operational, areas of the site. The lower level housed tiered outward facing levels of operations techs. The second floor, also tiered, housed the various mission runners and their banks of monitors and comms gear, and the third, smallest ring, was flight operations. An air traffic control tower that oversaw not only TWO West’s airspace, but also the company’s other runways scattered around the globe.

Rios’ work station sat elevated in-between the first and second levels affording him and his key personnel an unobstructed view of his operators and all the mission monitors. He could rotate and immediately have eyes on any op at any time. It was an extremely radical design and had taken him and his design team months to perfect the layout. When he was off duty, one of several Alpha operators manned the station. A spiral staircase, at the six o’clock position, led down to his huge office located on the eight floor. 

“Mr. Rios, incoming call from Air Traffic Control, stamped urgent.” 

Rios frowned. Urgent from flight ops was never a good sign. He spun back toward his ATC monitor and looked out at the flight line. “Send it.” 

Over his headset he listened to the message. An incoming GV was requesting a flight plan to land at TWO West in three and half hours. 

“Starrett, Rios,” he snapped into the mic, “Who the hell is this GV?” 

“Hold one.” 

Rios clicked his keyboard trying to establish if he’d lost track of the day’s flight schedules, but no GV’s were listed. 

“It is a GV out of Davenport Florida, registration…Echo, Kilo, Sierra 4040. Fellow named Vasily Tyannikov on board.” 

“Fuck!” Rios snapped tearing his headset off and standing up, “Kapoor, assume Alpha control. Let me know when the GV is thirty mikes out.” 

“Copy that, Mr. Rios, I have Alpha control, GV when thirty Mikes out.” 

Rios stomped his way to the spiral stair and rushed down to his private office. He moved straight to his desk, sat down and ordered Mars to locate Salem. A screen on the wall booted up, and a green flashing triangle pin pointed Salem in his office, in the bedroom. He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. Odd, he thought, watching the green marker. The bedroom, it was unexpected. He’d thought that Elliot would want to explore the facility, familiarize himself with his new surroundings, practice situational awareness, but instead he’d hunkered down in his new office. When the blip did not move for ten minutes, Rios figured that the man was asleep. He tapped a few more keys sending a message to him. It went unanswered for ten minutes, then finally a reply came via Rios’ cell phone. He picked it up and swiped. 

“Salem?” a sleep hoarse voice croaked barely above a whisper. 

Rios smiled. He still said it like a question, “Salem, I need you in my office asap.” 

“Sure, ah eighth floor, north end. Just let me wake up and get moving. I really crashed, Tyse, sorry. Been a long few days, for me.” 

“No problem,” Rios said ending the call. 

He stood up and started pacing. Why the hell was Tyannikov en-route? More pointedly, why was he flying straight into West? While he waited for Salem, the confused man made coffee and set out two cups and some danishes on the sleek, glass topped table in front of the large chestnut colored leather sofa facing out toward the mountains. It wasn’t much, but the system had shown that Salem had not visited the canteen for lunch. He stepped back and studied the arrangement, then ordered Mars to open the door. 

“Hey,” Salem said from just outside of Rios’ office door, “Is Mr. Rios in?” 

Tyson turned and walked toward Salem, “Hey, come on in.” he said amicably, nodding toward the couch. 

Salem lurched across the space on his crutches and sat down heavily on the right hand side of the couch. He eyed the coffee and danishes and smiled, “Still feeding me, Rios?” 

“Yea, I suppose so. Black?” 

“Nah, no, some sugar and cream would be great, Tyse.” 

Rios did as told and crossed to the seating area with the two cups in hand. He set them down and took a seat on the opposite end of the sofa. 

“What’s up? Thought your day was full.” 

Rios shrugged and sipped his coffee, “It is. Just got busier too.” 

“Trouble with an op?” 

“Nah, probably nothing. Coffee okay?” 

“Yea, fine. So?” 

“Well, ATC…” 

“ATC?” 

“Air traffic control.” 

“Of course,” Salem said taking a danish. “What about them?” 

“They had a request for flight approach, for a GV. Know anything about that, Salem?” 

He set the cheese danish back down and leaned into the sofa, “Yea, Tyse, well this, TWO, it’s a bit bigger than I thought. And you have all this tech and people and I…I called him, Tyse. And he knows me. I need some grounding. Need him.” 

“I used to ground you, Salem. I still can.” 

Salem smiled, “Yea, I get that, Tyse but what you and me have is different, more so now. So, he’s coming out. He’s my partner. We’re…” 

The computer chimed, and Rios held up his right hand silencing Elliot. “Alice, go ahead.” 

A female voice, so familiar that Elliot felt nauseous, spoke, “Tyson, op number Foxtrot 65678-9 is completed. Alpha control is requesting exfil green light.” 

“Alice, confirm Foxtrot 65678-9 complete and exfil is green to Diego Garcia.” 

Salem stood shakily, and started toward the door. Rios trailed after him and grasped his left elbow. “Wait.” 

“No…seen heard enough. How…how…how…” and his world went dark. 

Twenty minutes later Salem came around, startling Rios, “Murray, Murray! Back, back go back. Ack, ack…No, Murray. Murray…!” Salem screamed erupting upright on the sofa in Rios’ office. 

Rios’ heart clenched. He’d heard those same words ripped from Salem’s gut as he jettisoned from sleep into a flashback, into a waking nightmare, more times than he cared to recall since their evac chopper, carrying Murray, spiraled into the building and crashed into the water off of the Bund. They were raw, desperate, heartbreaking words, and Rios choked back the emotions that they churned up in his anxiety tightened chest. He reached out and grasped the smaller man’s shoulders firmly. 

“Yo, Elliot, Elliot, you’re safe, man,” he said softly his voice hoarse, “Look at me. My eyes, my eyes, look at me. We are in my office, TWO West HQ. Shh, calm down.” 

But Rios didn’t really want to look into Salem’s frantic hazel eyes, he didn’t want to see the pain, terror and grief that he knew he’d find there. Elliot pulled against his grip, and shook his head vigorously trying to fight through the fog of memory shattering his reality. Rios continued holding him while leaning down trying to make eye contact. Salem’s eyes were wild shifting right and left, frenzied and moist with unshed tears. Finally, he shuddered and tensed in Rios’ grasp. His eyes cleared a bit, and he moaned low and balefully like a wounded animal and Rios’ blood froze. He new that sound, and he hated it. It was one of the reasons that he’d finally relented and stopped fighting Tyannikov’s efforts to take Salem far away from the states and TWO after the fallout of Shanghai. Let the Russian deal with it, he’d reasoned. He was a doctor. He hadn’t been saddled with Salem’s edgy emotional and mental state for decades. If Tyannikov felt so sure of himself, he was welcome to try. After all, he needed, deserved a break from Elliot’s madness. That and he had a company to rebuild, mouths to feed. All were excuses, though. The real reason was so that he’d never have to hear that wail torn from Elliot’s throat or see that hopeless look of grief and failure in the younger mans eyes again. 

He shook him a bit harder, “Safe, Elliot. We’re safe. On me, look…that’s it. Back with me now? Good man.” 

Salem went limp. His breathing started to settle a bit into ragged rasps, he squeezed his eyes shut and ground his teeth. Rios ran his right hand back through Elliot’s light brown hair and then grasped the back of neck, gently pulling his head forward until their foreheads touched. 

“Shh, I’m here. I’m here. It’s over.” 

“What, what was…where is she, Rios!” Salem demanded pulling away and searching the room frantically. 

Without releasing him, Rios tried to explain, “Gone, she is gone. It was just her voice. I missed her. I…had her voice copied, made into my P.A. I missed her. It gives me, gives me some comfort, some confidence to, to go on.” 

Elliot shook his head, jostling Rios’, “You, you’re a sick fuck, Rios. You sick bastard! Fuck!” he growled through gritted teeth, meaning every word of it. 

Rios squeezed his neck tightly, “I was gonna tell you. I didn’t mean…” 

Salem wrenched his head away, started to stand up but forgot his crutches, stumbled and fell onto the plush leather sofa. He crumbled back into it and covered his face with his trembling hands. The sound of Murray’s voice just kept bouncing round and round in his pounding head, and the smell of jet fuel, blood and the smoke of dozens of burning buildings sickened his stomach. For the first time, since losing his ability to walk un-aided, he felt hopelessly trapped by his inability to run, at full speed, away from danger; trapped, once again by Rios’ manipulation. He felt the fool. 

“I can’t do this, Rios,” he said panicked his voice gravely and low, “It was a mistake to think I could. Gonna fly out when…” 

“Just give it a minute. Give me a minute. No, sit back down. Have a drink. Please.” 

He shook his head, “ A drink? A drink!” 

Rios stood and held his hands out to his sides placatingly, “I know, it seems, seems…I don’t know, just have one and give this,” he motioned around the room with a grandiose sweep of his left arm, “a chance. _Us_ a chance.” 

Salem glared up at him through his spread fingers. Then finally he dropped his hands onto his lap and nodded dejectedly. He had given him so many chances. What was one more? Rios turned and went to the bar. After pouring two whiskeys, he returned to the couch. Salem took his and downed it. 

“Turn her…it off, Rios. Turn-it-off.” he ordered staring into the empty crystal glass glass, “I don’t fucking ever want to hear that shit again. I’ll stay, but I never ever want to hear that,” he said pointing and twirling his arm in a large circle for emphasis at the ceiling where he thought the speakers were, “again. You hear me, you fucker, never-ever-ever-again. If I do we, me and you will be done. Finished. I…I have tried to tear you out of my heart for nearly all of my life, Rios, but that will do it, finish it. I swear to fuckin’ god, if I ever hear Murr…her like that again that will do it! Get rid of it. I know you fucking need me, me and my sacrificial face to save your fuckin’ _new TWO_. I’m not the fool you play me for, Mr. Rios. So if you want it, this face, the face of great professionalism and sacrifice for innocents the world over, get-rid-of it. And get me some fuckin’ Vodka. This prissy rich man shit is piss water.” 

Rios returned to the bar, took out a bottle of chilled Vodka and a chilled glass and took them to Salem. He poured three fingers worth into it and set them on the coffee table beside the danishes and now cold coffee. Salem sat up, snatched the offering, downed it and sighed. 

“Vodka, better? Give me a few minutes, Salem. I’ll start IT fixing it. Just have a drink and try to regroup, Salem.” 

While Rios set about starting IT on their task, Salem threw back several stout shots of Vodka. It was an old habit that during his time away from TWO and Rios and under Tyannikov’s care he’d more or less given up. He started on another but held off, recalling that the big Russian would be on site in a few hours, and being drunk would disappoint him. Salem knew that despite that initial disappointment Vasily would still love him. Disappointment was actually not correct, it would, Salem chided himself, be closer to worry. So, he poured another drink and slowly sipped it while watching Rios talk quietly on the phone at his desk. Every once in a while, the man would glance over at him. After years of working so closely with Rios, Salem read disappointment and frustration in those glances, but his fury at what Rios had done with Murray’s memory staved off any guilt that he might have felt. 

Finally, Rios hung up the phone and crossed back to the sofa. He sat down heavily on the left end and poured himself a glass of the Vodka. He didn’t especially care for the drink, but if it placated Elliot then he’d choke it down. 

“It’s done. Are we good?” 

“Have we ever been good, Rios?” Salem replied solemnly his raspy voice barely a whisper. 

As much as he wanted to take the bait, Rios held off. Salem’s voice simply held too much pain and dejection to press the issue. He needed Salem on his side, on his team, and he was willing to do what ever that required. Because of his deception, TWO was once again in trouble, and if he was truthful, Salem was also once again in trouble. He needed to fix both. 

“I’d like to think that we were, can be again, Elliot.” 

Salem guffawed at the remark. Time with Vasily, away from Tyson and TWO, in an unconditional loving relationship, had shown him just how toxic his relationship with Rios and Murray had been. He did love Rios, had loved Murray. He would die for either of them, and he knew that Rios loved him, but Rios also manipulated that love and was certainly manipulating him again. 

“You could have told me,” Salem said. The whispered remark threw Rios for a moment, it was out of context. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You could have told me that you shot me, Tyson,” he said curtly, his irritation bleeding through, “but then again you never did trust me to be _mature_ did you. Neither of you did. You know she blamed me, Murray, said I dropped you into that prison intentionally. Said it right to my face. Imagine, imagine how that felt, made me feel. Can you? My fuckin’ heart was broken. I’d lost the only person that I’d ever loved. I wasn’t strong enough to hold on to you. I was too small, too weak after all, and she, she just let me know exactly what she thought. I’d killed you, and her words broke me all over again, Rios. I’d lost you, and in that moment I knew that I’d lost her too, and I was totally all alone again. So, yea I took that next mission. Alone. You know why…because I had no plans on coming back, Rios,” he shrugged and sniffled the memory painful and immediate, “None. A clean death in the mountains of Afghanistan trying to do some good was better than bleeding out in the bath tub, right? It was suicide, and I’d accepted it. Then the footage of the prison riot saved me from it. You could have, should have trusted me enough to tell me that you shot me. I hate that you didn’t. It hurts like hell that you didn’t.” 

Rios sat silently taking it all in. It was the most that they’d spoken in a long while, the most Salem had shared with him in years. The words stung. 

Rios looked down at his hands, abashedly, “I…she never mentioned that. I can’t imagine, I’m sorry. I know we argued about you dropping me too. I know we doubted one another, Elliot, but never in my heart of hearts did I blame you for dropping me, not for a millisecond. It was hard times, and we fought sure, but that’s how we rolled.” 

Salem laughed bitterly, “How we rolled, right,” he said coldly, “And how will _we_ roll now? I don’t think all this new TWO is for me. Talking offices, name plates and mister this and mister that. So you just roll it how ever you see fit. Yea, I called Vasily. I called, because I was spinning out, and I needed him, and he jumped on a GV to get here for me. For me. Fucked up little me. Sorry to invade your precious airspace. Just tell me where you need me, Mr. Rios and…” 

“I want you to be my partner…” 

“Save it, Rios. If I learned anything over the years I learned to know my place. Learned it from a very, very young age, and I learned to toe the line. So, as long as I never have to hear her voice again, I will toe your line, albeit Rios thanks to your commitment to saving innocents, while leaning on a set of crutches or tooling along in my custom red chair. So…” 

“Elliot…” Rios broke in his voice cracking. 

“I’m gonna go back to my office and clean up before Vasily lands. I’ll inform Barrett, yea, I called my P.A. personal assistant, Barrett; and you know what, I got bored listening to the choices, and I just went with voice number five, imagine that...to cancel the rest of my meetings. If that’s oaky with you, of course, Mr. Rios.” 

Rios stood up. Salem’s voice had changed over the course of their discussion and his cynicism was plain. There would be no point in saying anything more on the subjects. 

“Here, let me give you a hand. Or do you want me to get your chair?” 

Salem slouched deeper into the sofa clearly exhausted, “Just grab my crutches and yea, Tyse. I’m beat. A hand back would be nice.” 

Tyson held onto Salem’s left elbow as they walked slowly back to his corner office. He hated to see how difficult it was for Salem to walk. It was a slow methodical gait that bore the truth of just how difficult using the crutches was for him. At the office, Salem pressed his palm on the scanner and the door slid back. They slipped in, and Rios guided the smaller man to the sofa. 

“Barrett, full sun,” Salem said, and the blinds opened wide letting in the late afternoon light. “I guess the tech will come in handy. Can I get it in my TWO West villa too?” 

Rios grinned, set the crutches within reach and sat down next to him, shoulder to shoulder. To his surprise, Salem leaned over against him, tilted his back and left resting it on his right shoulder. 

“You can have anything that I can give you, Ellie, anything.” 

“Twenty years of my life back?” he asked sadly. 

“Not all of it was bad, was it?” 

“No. I don’t know. Look, Rios treat Vasily nice. He’s all I have, and I need him, have needed him for a long, long time. Give me that, alright.” 

“Done. I’ll have the blinds installed too.” 

Salem laughed again but without bitterness, “I’d like that. Need that, fucking legs. Take me all night to close all the blinds in that place. Desert views aside it’s just too much glass” 

“Look, I need to go, and you need to get settled. Come here,” Rios said turning and dragging Salem into a hug before resting his left cheek on the top of his head. Elliot, in turn, wrapped his arms around Rios tightly, “I love you, man. I always have. What I did, I did to, to save you more pain. I swear. You’d lost enough. I’ll come back and take you to meet Vasily when they land, and we’ll have a nice supper. Me, you guys and Kimi. She loves Vasily ” 

Elliot nodded, and pulled free, “Sounds good, just do me a favor and roll my chair over here. I don’t feel real steady just yet. Thanks, Tyse.” 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Vasily's jet arrives and the trio start off his unexpected visit._

Rios watched the white and blue GV curl around on its final approach against a cloud free, azure sky. His gut was knotted up, which infuriated him. It was just Tyannikov. He had been battling the man for years over how he treated Ellio. Still, feeling nervous wasn’t in his nature, and apparently Salem needed the man. Needed him more than he needed him. It galled him, and Tyson knew that it shouldn’t. In reality, they’d both met Salem at the same time. If Rios allowed himself to believe the truth, Salem had probably loved the irritating Russian for as long as he’d loved him, It was, unfortunately, a love gone unrequited for two decades because of his tyrannical hold over Elliot, something that Rios was quickly starting to regret. The Jet dropped down, skidded to a halt, then turned and taxied following the runway guide’s orange flags to its final parking spot.

“Come on, we can meet him on the tarmac.” 

Salem grunted, and after backing up his wheelchair rolled along beside Rios along the terminal’s hallway. A short walk later, they exited out of the tinted sliding security doors the hot, arid Arizona air blasting them in the face. 

“Of all the fuckin’ places, Rios…a desert?” 

Rios laughed, feeling somewhat relived that Salem’s mood had lightened a bit, “Well I know how much you love the jungle, Salem, but it is god damed difficult to build runways in them.” 

“Oh, fuck me twice, god forbid…but it is _hot_ here, Tyse.” 

They continued along, and when they were about fifty yards away from the idling jet, the stairs canted out, and the flight attendant followed by Tyannikov strode down them. The big Russian was dressed in black tactical pants, black boots and a tan tactical shirt. All he carried was a three day pack slung over his right shoulder that Rios figured was his go bag. His nearly black hair was grown out some since last they’d met, and he wore a light beard that Rios thought suited him. Salem sped up a bit, failing to curb his excitement. 

When they were within twenty feet, Rios held back giving them some space. Vasily leaned down and kissed Elliot on the right cheek before embracing him tightly. Then he stood up but kept his right hand on Salem’s left shoulder as they greeted one another. It was still awkward for Rios to see acts of affection between the two, and he looked away. Soon enough, they were moving toward him. 

Vasily stretched out his hand, when they were steps apart, “Thank you for allowing us to land here, Rios. I really appreciate your consideration. Saves me a long ride from commercial airport.” 

Rios shook his hand and nodded, “Not a problem. We should have had an arrangement from the beginning. Hindsight, I suppose. Feel free to land here anytime. I hope your approach was smooth.” 

“It was, and I hope my guys can stay the night and refuel here. I will cover any cost, of course.” 

Rios waved him off, turned on his heel and started back toward the terminal, “Not a problem. No cost at all, consider it my pleasure. They can bunk in the guest suites. Should be acceptable. Damn near five star accommodations. I’ll arrange an escort. I assume you will be heading out first light?” 

“They will be, yes. They have connection with client in Vail. Me, I will be staying indefinitely.” 

Salem stopped his chair and stared up at the man incredulously, “Indefinitely? Are you serious, Vasily? But work? What about the coming mission?” 

Vasily hitched the black pack higher onto his right shoulder, “I took an extended leave from field operations. I will be available via sat link, and Ilya will have command on the the ground. As far as I am concerned you, Ilushka, are more important than anybody else anywhere. The world can get on without me for a while, forever. DBA can do without me too.” 

Salem looked at Rios who was trying to decide if the Russian’s comment was a jab at Shanghai, or just the simple truth. Regardless, he could not react negatively. 

“Glad to hear it, Tyannikov. Salem’s villa has plenty of space, and it will be fantastic that the two of you are together. It was never my intention to separate you guys.” 

Before Salem could speak, the trio was once again moving toward the terminal. Dinner, he figured, was definitely going to be interesting. At the door, Rios stepped aside and motioned the other two men inside. Salem rolled through and Vasily followed right behind. Once they started down the industrial carpeted hallway, the big Russian slipped between the chair’s handles and started pushing Salem along. Rios stopped short, and stared. Elliot had never allowed him to push the chair, not during or even immediately after exiting rehab when he was still weak and in considerable pain. In the private rehab facility, if he required help, Salem had requested that one of the nurses pushed him. Rios attributed this to the smaller man needing to reaffirm his independence from Rios. What, he wondered, did allowing Tyannikov mean? 

As they walked, Rios chatted with Tyannikov and spoke on his ear piece comms arranging the accommodations and fueling for Tyannikov’s team. The escort was enroute, and the fuel team was tasked with their job, by the time the trio reached the elevator. Rios palmed the ID pad, scanned his retina and then they waited for the stainless steel clad doors to open. Salem looked up, in the uncomfortable silence, watching the numbers tick away as the car descended from the seventh floor. 

Once inside, Rios palmed and then looked into the scanner again, “Mars, eighth floor.” 

“Impressive security. Is it needed?” Tyannikov asked as the car shot upward. 

“Much of it was in place, when we bought the property,” Rios said shrugging, “We beefed it up slightly and added some new tech. Used to be a computer research facility. High end stuff, quantum processing level research. They tanked, and we scooped the whole place up for a song. Then I started buying up the surrounding acreage.” 

“The airstrips?” 

“Already in place. The original owners had them installed because they were flying back and forth to Europe a lot. We just added to the helipads, and hanger space and some extra length. Getting the permission to fly when we wanted was a little trickier, but money talks. We greased enough palms, ran an op for an area politician and…” 

“Mr. Rios, I don’t think Mr. Tyannikov requested a detailed explanation of TWO’s expansion.” 

“Sorry, Salem. Here we are, anyway.” 

They piled out of the car and walked away from the elevator alcove. Rios stopped and faced them. 

“You guys get situated. Salem, I know that you cancelled the rest of your schedule, so you are free to bug out. I talked to Kimi, and she she’s shopping for some steaks and stuff to grill up out at my place. 1900 hours sound good? That enough time for you to get home and get Tyannikov settled in at your place?” 

“Suits me, Tyse,” then with a mock southern accent, “I’ve had me a day.” Vasily chuckled, “Are you quoting Heath, from Big Valley, Ilushka? I know that you like it but…” 

“Yea, busted, guess I am. That’s my favorite episode.” 

“For me, it sounds good as well, Rios. I just need some time with my crew before heading out.” 

“Not a problem. Salem has full access, so he can take you. Salem, Mars can give you their location. It will give you some practice working with the central control system.” 

“Thanks, Mr. Rios. That is so much simpler than you just saying, ‘They’re on the fourth floor.’” 

“This villa, does it have adequate and secure connection to internet? I need connection with to my HQ.” 

“Yes and yes. Also, since you will be staying, I will arrange offices for you, Tyannikov. Our system here is hardened and much faster. They will be ready by tomorrow 0700.” 

“Safe from prying eyes, I assume?” 

“Absolutely, you have my word. DBA’s business is not ours. So, see you two at 1900. Bring your appetites or Kimi will have my ass.” 

Salem rolled along the hall with Vasily in tow, “So, this office, is it worthy of your new station, Ilushka?” 

“Hmph! My station and than some. Left, it’s down here.” 

At the door, Salem palmed the scanner and rolled in. Vasily strode through, as the door slid closed. He stopped and surveyed the huge space. 

“You were not joking, Barsuhk. This is how do you say? Lavish.” 

“Lavish smavish, it’s bloat. Has a bar though.” 

“Ilushka?” 

“I know, I know,” Salem said holding his hands up in surrender, “Just a, a celebration drink, because you’re here now. We’re together. Did you see the look on his face? Priceless. Come on, Vasya, it’s Rios’ fancy shit. He owes it to us.” 

“Okay, Okay.” 

“I’ll get it.” 

Salem rolled to the bar while Vasily ambled around the office. He dropped the pack near the door and moved to the windows. The view across the tarmac and to the mountains was pristine with only the shimmer of heat from the asphalt marring it. Rios had done well for himself. He turned and looked down at Elliot’s desk. Once again the level of on-board tech surprised him. No wonder Salem had called him. 

“Here you go, Vasya. The good stuff. So what do you think?” 

Vasily sipped the well aged Bourbon and shrugged, “I think Rios fell into pile of shit and came out smelling like roses, is what Vasily thinks.” 

Salem laughed out loud, “Me too. Watch this. Barrett - less sun,” the windows dimmed and the room darkened slightly, “and this. Barrett – location - Rios, Tyson?” 

“Mr. Salem, Mr. Rios is in the ATC.” 

“That is creepy. Mr. Salem?” 

“Sure, in the new TWO we, the upper echelon, are misters. It might have it’s uses though. Let me see…Barrett – location - crew of GV?” 

“One moment, Mr. Salem while I find that information.” 

They waited sipping their Bourbon. 

“Mr. Salem, unable to locate GV crew.” 

“What’s your guys’ names?” 

“Taylor. Wilamena Taylor.” 

Salem raised an eyebrow, “Wila…you have a lady pilot?” 

“Ex-RAF pilot,” Vasily answered shrugging his broad shoulders, “Combat tested.” 

“Christ you sound like Rios. Ex-RAF…combat tested, blah, blah, blah. Barrett,” he snapped, “Location - Tyler, Wilimena.” 

“Mr. Salem, location - Tyler, Wilimena…level six, suite eleven.” 

“The other guys?” 

Vasily told him, and Barrett dutifully located the crew spread out in suites in the sixth floor. 

“Well, there you have it. We should get going. I’m excited to show you our desert paradise.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Salem and Vasily get comfortable, while preparing for dinner at Rios'_
> 
> _**Mature content**_

Twenty-five minutes later, Salem and Vasily entered the underground parking garage and angled toward Salem’s company vehicle.

“Range Rover. Rios must have been thinking of me after all, Ilushka.” 

“Hunk a junk. Give me a Ford any day,” Salem grumbled pressing the key fob and unlocking the black truck. Then he reached up, opened the driver’s side door and hit the button to open the rear hatch. 

Back at the open hatch, he pulled his crutches from their holder and leveraged himself out of the chair. Once standing, he started to fold it while leaning on his crutches. Vasily stood patiently by. He knew that when Elliot wanted help he would ask for it. Finally, Salem hefted the light weight chair into the Range Rover’s boot and turned to Vasily. 

“It’s your brand. Wanna drive?” 

“My pleasure,” Vasily replied cheerily catching the keys. 

The trip to Salem’s villa passed by quickly, and quietly. Salem seemed, to Vasily, to be tired and a bit down, now that they had left HQ and were headed home. The landscape was flat desert, merging into rolling foothills, as they slipped up into the far off mountains. It was desert, but not harshest desert that he had ever encountered. Regardless, it was far from the sea, and he knew that when inland Salem tended to feel trapped. 

“It is a pretty land, despite the harshness, no?” He prompted trying to pull the younger man out of his reverie. 

“Pretty hot and dry. Prefer Osijek, or Miami…better yet Oia, but I still can’t manage the fuckin’ stairs.” 

“Oia is beautiful, Ilushka. We could buy a new place, single story, not on side of mountain.” 

“We could.” 

“Turn at next right?” 

“Yup, that’s me.” 

Vasily pulled the big truck into the gray, star shaped paver clad two car driveway and stopped in front of the slowly opening garage door. He killed the powerful engine and sighed. It was hard to fathom, but he knew that he was, at least for the near future, home. Next to him, Salem slid carefully out of the truck and settled into his crutches. Then he headed into the dim, cool garage. Vasily followed him after grabbing his pack and locking up the truck. 

“Barsuhk, do you want your chair?” 

Salem turned from unlocking the interior garage entry and shook his head, “Nah, thanks I have the other one inside. I’m good.” 

Inside, salem tossed his keys onto the small table just inside of the door. He wanted a drink but held off. Vasily closed the door quietly and crossed to where Salem stood staring down at his feet. He dropped the pack and immediately embraced him. 

“Hey, Ilushka, I’m here now. No more pretending.” 

Salem took three deep breaths and settled in Vasily’s arms. Vasily rocked him gently and held him up when the crutches fell away. Salem wrapped his arms around his waist tightly and buried his face into the side of Vasily’s neck. He breathed in the bigger man’s scent and let it calm him. 

“You feel good, Vasya, too good,” he said hoarsely, sighing and turning his head outward but resting it on Vasily’s left shoulder allowing the bigger man to hold him up. 

“You too. I missed you,” Vasily said rubbing his right hand up and down Salem’s back, “I missed you.” 

Salem looked up and holding on tightly surprised Vasily by kissing him. It was a passionate deep kiss, very unlike Elliot and Vasily responded in kind. He returned the kiss, reaching up and kneading the back of Salem’s head beneath his hair. When Salem continued the kiss, Vasily began carefully walking them backwards toward the sofa. Salem broke off the kiss, breathless, and rested his forehead against Vasily’s. 

“No, Vasya. Bedroom. Fuck my crutches. Just help me along. Double doors to the left.” 

Vasily nodded against him, picked him up left arm beneath his shoulders and his right beneath Elliot’s knees and and moved that way. At the doors, he pushed them open with his right foot and shouldered his way in. He crossed the large room and settled Salem down on the bottom edge of the un-made bed. Before he could step away, Salem reached out and started undoing Vasily’s pants. He fumbled a bit, his hands trembling and unsure. Vasily grasped them. 

“Ilushka, this…are you sure you want this?” 

“Yea.” 

Vasily released his hands and instead clasped his hands on each of Salem’s cheeks tipping his face upwards, “Not like you, Ilushka.” 

Salem nodded, “I know, I know. Just need to feel you, Vas. It’s been too long.” 

“I agree. Then continue, my Ilushka.” 

Vasily stood stock still, while Elliot undid his tactical belt, unbuttoned his pants and dragged them over his hips. Then he pushed Vasily’s underwear down, and after taking a long deep breath, he ran the backs of his fingers up and down along the length of his cock. Vasily groaned. In the two years since Shanghai, they’d had sex only a handful of times, and he’d pretty much given up hope that the deeply wounded man would ever truly desire it again. When Salem leaned down and took him into his mouth, Vasily melted. He reached out and tangled his fingers in Salem’s hair guiding him. It was guidance that he didn’t need. No one had ever sucked his cock like Salem did. 

“Enough, enough, too close, Ilushka,” he rasped gently pushing Salem away. 

Salem stopped, lay back and slid toward the head of the king sized bed. Vasily sat beside his right leg, leaned down and untied his boots. Then he stepped free of his pants. Finally, he removed Salem’s boots and then crawled up and knelt overtop of the smaller man’s hips. He was cautious. Even after five years together as lovers, Salem was skittish when Vasily assumed a dominant role, feeling trapped and vulnerable. When Salem didn’t complain, Vasily undid his belt and zipper and wrangled his Levis over his narrow hips and off. He ran his hands up and under Salem’s tee shirt, down his taut stomach, feeling the thick scarring from where the surgeons had cracked his chest after Shanghai, then tracing the fine trail of hair below his navel and along his hips and then back up pressing his palms against Salem’s cock as he went. 

Then leaning down, hands on either side of Salem’s head and his lips hovering just above Salem’s, “You are so perfect, Lushka, so perfect. Let me love you, Da?” 

In reply, Salem stretched up and sucked in Vasily’s lips and kissed him greedily. Vasily sparred with Elliot’s probing tongue, running figure eights round it, sucking on it and clenching his fists in the comforter. His entire body was tingling with anticipation, and his heart was hammering in his chest. Their cocks brushed against each other, and it was all Vasily could do to slow the pace. 

He pulled away and started kissing the sides of Salem’s neck, nibbling on his ears and sucking under his chin. All sensitive spots and beneath him Salem writhed with pleasure. Vasily kept kissing and suckling him while sliding Salem’s shirt up. He stopped long enough to yank it over his head. Then did the same with his own. 

“Stretch out, Vasya. I want to feel all of you against me. Like that yea, so warm.” 

Vasily, nodded and settled into a slower gentler rhythm their cocks side by side hot and sensitive. Salem played along, and for a time they just kissed and ran their hands and tongues along one another’s bodies. 

“You feel so fucking good, Vasya. I’m sorry I haven’t…” 

Vasily pressed his index finger against Salem’s puffy lips, “Nothing to be sorry for, Lushka. Nothing.” 

Tears streamed down Salem’s cheeks, and Vasily kissed them away. Raising up on his elbows, he slowly started grinding back and forth rubbing their cocks together. Salem groaned beneath him arching his back trying to get more contact. Vasily pressed harder, and then broke contact. He quickly slid down, and in a long smooth action swallowed Salem to his balls. 

“Vasya!” 

He sucked him for a bit, slathering his twitching cock, and then lay back over him grinding their now slick cocks together again. Salem dug his fingers into Vasily’s buttocks trying to maximize contact. Frustrated, Vasily pulled him up into a kneeling position and pressed their hips together. Then grasping Salem’s hands in his he wrapped their joined fists around their cocks and worked them up and down while pumping their hips. Vasily let go and grabbed Salem’s ass tugging hard up and down driving their cocks between his fisted hands. He was so close, and reaching up he dragged Salem into a kiss, sucking on the smaller man’s tongue in time to their thrusts. Salem whimpered, shuddered and came. Feeling the spasm running through Salem’s body drove Vasily to near climax, and he grabbed hold of Salem’s fists, squeezed them even tighter, finally coming as well with a low deep groan that resonated through Salem’s heaving chest. He pumped the final shudders out of their cocks, and then wrapped Salem up in his huge arms, crushing him against his chest. Together they fell backwards onto the bed and Vasily pulled him close. 

“Was not expected, Lushka.” 

“Yea, surprised me too. Five hours till dinner. Nap?” 

“Nap.” 

Four and a half hours later, Salem rolled onto his back, groaned and stretched. He could hear the shower running and smell the sweet sandalwood aroma of Vasily’s soap lingering on the cloud of steam wafting out of the open door. He scrubbed his hands over his face and looked to his right. His crutches were there, leaning against the night table. Vasily, as always, had thought about his needs. He sat up and after rubbing his right index finger knuckle in his eye socket, yawned then struggled into the crutches and went into the shower. 

“Room in there for me?” 

The door pushed open, and Vasily stuck his head out, “Da, Ilushka, da. Here, give me your elbow, lean on me. Come on, sit.” 

Elliot slipped into the large charcoal gray marble shower stall and sat down on the slatted teak bench. Vasily stepped back and after running his fingers through his sopping hair adjusted the rain shower head so that the stream was also hitting Salem who looked up and let the warm fine spray wash over his face before dipping his head forward running his fingers through his hair. Sighing, he leaned back, looked up at Vasily and grinned. 

“At that length, your hair is always so curly when it gets wet.” 

The big Russian smiled back and reached for the shampoo, “Da, and it is wavy, not curly, and you love it that way. Here, let me wash yours. It is getting long again. Rios must be fuming.” 

“Eh, I was gonna cut it before coming out here, like he made me cut when we signed on with SSC, first impressions and all, but fuck Mr. Rios.” 

“This…close your eyes, look down. Good. This Mr. Rios, what is that?” 

Salem laughed and let his head joggle around, as Vasily scrubbed his hair, “Yea, at the _New TWO_ us _higher ups_ have to be addressed as misters and Ms’s. It’s all about respect, you know. That feels good.” 

“Time to rinse.” 

He took the smaller shower head down, flipped the lever to start the stream and washed the soap from Salem’s hair. “Respect. I see. All done. Soap up. This shower deserves respect. It is quite nice.” 

“You really do have a thing for bathrooms, Vasya. Said he wanted to make sure I could use it okay. See, even has a remote for the rain shower heads. We should get one for Miami and Osijek.” Salem explained tracing the long black line of hair trailing down Vasily’s stomach with his finger tips. 

“I know, I know, ever since I was a boy and snuck into that fancy hotel, it just stuck with me. I never want an out-house again,” he said shrugging, “You should stop that, Mr. Salem, unless you want to end up back in bed.” 

“No, I’m good for a while. I hate that Barrett calls me mister, pisses me off. The fuck, Vasya, calling us mister doesn’t wash the blood from our hands. Not mine anyway.” 

Vasily sat down next to him, leaned back, and studied his crossed legs. The water had plastered his dark hair down. He reached out and ran his index finger along the jagged, six inch long scar running along the outside of his left calf. 

“Mister is term of respect, yes. I understand your disdain.” 

“My disdain?” Salem repeated crossing his right leg over his left thigh and massaged his calf. Vasily looked over at it and then reach out and carefully squeezed it. 

“Muscle tone is coming back. You are getting stronger everyday.” 

“I’m trying. Working out everyday, and I start rehab here on Friday. I know that I argued against it, but you’re right. I need help with this.” He said stretching out his legs and rolling his ankles around. “Disdain is strong. It’s like how you don’t trust officers just because of rank, you know?” 

“I should have turned down Budapest and come out with you last month. Might have eased the transition, Ilushka,” Vasily said sadly, wrapping his arm around Salem’s shoulders. “I am sorry.” 

“No worries. I’m settling in. Just today…today was a mess.” 

“Come on, up you go. We are getting wrinkled like prunes.” 

Back in the bedroom, wrapped in plush red towels, Vasily held onto Salem’s waist supporting him while smoothing out the heavy down comforter. He sat him down and kissed the top of his head. 

“Levis…black or blue?” 

“Oh, Vasya you know me so well. For Mr. Rios we’d better dress up, so black, please.” 

The older man laughed and opened the huge walk-in closet door. Salem’s clothes were folded and neatly stacked on the lower shelves. He grabbed a pair of black jeans, some tight fit boxers and without asking a black, long sleeved tee shirt. After a second thought, he put the shirt back and chose instead a bulky red and gray cashmere sweater. Nights in the desert were chilly, and he knew that Salem would appreciate the warmth as well as the volume. 

“Black, gray and red and huge, sound good, Ilushka?” 

“Perfect, thanks.” 

They dressed, and returned the the main house. It was designed in a U-shape with a wall of floor to ceiling windows providing spectacular views of the mountains eleven miles distant. One leg of the U held the master suite, with windows sporting the same view and an office, and the other leg held a gourmet kitchen and dining area. Upstairs, Salem had informed him, there were three en-suite bedrooms and a study. Rios had thoughtfully installed a stairlift to ease Salem’s way. The house wrapped around a terrace overlooking the desert complete with an infinity pool. A big Green Egg grill was the center piece of a large stainless steel outdoor kitchen. Vasily noted the the pool was adapted so that Salem could get in and out without difficulty. It was beautiful property. 

Salem led him through the formal living room, down three flagstone steps and into the massive television room. It was a spectacular cathedral ceilinged space with louver shaded windows up high along the north wall. A sixty-five inch television and speaker system covered the wall across from a mahogany hued, plush U-shaped leather sofa. An oversized, rattan bladed ceiling fan spun slowly in the center. Missing from the room, Vasily noted, was the obligatory huge recliner that, in the past, Salem had always provided for Rios. The floor was beige, brick and gray colored flagstones and except for the entertainment wall the walls were also. Behind the sofa was a long teak and brass full bar. 

“Have a seat. Beer good?” 

“Beer is good.” 

Salem returned to the sofa, handed him a beer, settled into the section next to him and put his feet up on the redwood slab coffee table. After twisting the lid free, he held out the sweaty bottle toward Vasily, “To Salem West, Mr. Tyannikov, cheers.” 

“Cheers. So today? Today was a mess?” Salem sighed, “You know, you know that whole personal assistant voice tech?” 

“Yes, I am not sure how I feel about a talking office though.” 

“You! I’m still not comfortable with the fucking computer tables, and we’ve had those damned things for years. So, he calls, summons me to his office and wants to know why a GV is requesting permission to land.” 

“Not good, Barsuhk.’ 

“Not good. So…so I’m in there and he gives me danishes and coffee, and I’m explaining that I called you because I was, I was well you know, and out of no where Murray is there. I…” 

Vasily sat up straight and stared incredulously at him, “Murray? There? How?” 

“Her, her voice, Vasya. Just _exactly_ her voice and he goes, Alice…just calls her, and it’s his fucking P.A. voice. The fucker copied her voice and was using it as his P.A voice. I don’t know, Vasya, I guess I blacked out. I was so…I…” 

“Ah, no, Ilushka, no,” he snapped standing up and pacing back and forth, “I will never understand that bastard! Murray’s voice?” 

Salem nodded forlornly, then in a shaky whisper, “Yea, it was like she was standing right there. I, then I was back, back in Shanghai, and her chopper was spinning and…” 

Vasily stopped in front of him, “We don’t have to go tonight.” 

Salem waved him off, “No, I took care of it. We, I talked and made him change it. Said I’d get on the GV be outta here with you and never look back.” 

“You did?” 

“I did, and he heard me for once in his fucking life. Yea, I know he’s using me, but I think I need to work this out, Vasya. Can’t say if I’ll stay on, but I want to figure it out on my own. But I need you here, I need us.” 

“And, I am here for you, but that bastard…” 

“He is a bastard, but he’s my bastard I guess.” 

Vasily sat back down, “I knew that something happened. I can tell when you are hurt.” 

Salem shrugged and took a long pull of his beer, “Haven’t had a flashback in a long while. I was doing good. Least I thought I was.” 

“You are,” Vasily said reaching out and squeezing Salem’s left shoulder, “Hearing a thing like that would cause upset in anyone, Ilushka. It was thoughtless, selfish of him to tarnish her memory like that.” 

“Sometimes, Vasya, I don’t want to remember her. Don’t want to remember any of it. And now, since that fucking chopper pilot, it’s all right back in my face again. If this is the new TWO why can’t we move on? I just want to fucking move on, Vasya. Is that too much to ask?” 

“No, no Ilushka it isn’t, but we all grieve differently. There were times, after Illarion, my Ari, that I felt same way. Better to forget than suffer pain of memories. But our memories are what make us who we are. Until you, I did not realize this. You opened new door in my heart, but also, Ilushka, and this part hurt, helped close Ari’s. Rios was insensitive, Da. He was trying to keep a door open. For you to find out like you did was wrong though.” 

“Honestly, all of this might be wrong. Time is it?” 

“Time to go. Should we bring anything?” 

“Nah, Kimi will have it covered, and town is too far away. Any wine or anything here is his anyway so…take me to my chariot, Mr. Tyannikov.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Vasily meets Rios' new wife, and the group irons out some nagging issues._

Vasily grumbled, as he pulled into Rios’ driveway, and Salem looked over at him. He was frowning and clenching the steering wheel tight enough that his scarred knuckles were white.

“Problem?” Salem asked. 

The big Russian looked over at him, glowering, “I suppose it stands to reason that Mr. Rios’ house was mansion sized,” he growled hunching down a bit trying to see the third floor of the huge, deftly lit southwestern style adobe dwelling. 

“He does need the room, I guess. Nala comes well, used to come out. So do his parents, and Kimi has three grown kids, and they have kids, so…” 

“Are him and Nala speaking to one another yet?” 

Salem shook his head sadly, “Nah. She took it hard about him shooting me. I’ve tried, but I guess it will take time. She forced him into sending her out to that boarding school in Massachusetts. He’s pissed, and now she’s even talking West Point instead of MIT to piss him off even more.” 

“I feel like I am walking into a nest of hornets, Barsuhk.” 

“Well, we have walked into worse.” 

“Have we?” 

“Come on, chicken shit, get my chair and off load me. What could possibly go wrong?” 

“I could kill him.” 

Salem laughed and watched Vasily get out of the truck. When he finally rolled the chair around and looked up, Elliot cocked his head and smiled, “Get in line, Vasya, get in line.” 

Since the driveway was a hill, Salem allowed Vasily to push him along. They clattered along passing the rock shaped exterior lights as they went. At the door, Salem reached up and jabbed the ornate door bell. The chimes sounded followed by the click of the lock. Shortly, the heavy, Aztec inspired, ornately carved door opened. 

“Welcome,” Rios said extending his hand to Tyannikov, “Come on through. Kimi’s in the kitchen, and I’m working the grill. Salem.” 

“Tyse.” 

They followed him along the thirty foot tall foyer, through the main house and out to the rear terrace. Like Salem’s villa, it too looked out at the mountains and had a infinity pool out beyond the grilling area. 

“This way, beer, something stronger?” 

“Beer’s good,” Salem said and Vasily, after pushing Elliot to a table near the grill, agreed. 

Rios fetched two from the outdoor refrigerator and carried them over, “Here you go. Thanks for coming, Salem, well both of you. Hope some thick Filet Mignons are okay. Had the butcher carve them up special. Kimi made sides, but I don’t know what. She kicked me out of the kitchen.” 

“Sounds great, Tyse. How long until we eat?” 

“Just waiting on the potatoes here to finish, then I’ll throw the steaks on.” 

“Tyson, Tyson, here are the Brussel Sprouts. Low heat, remember,” Kimi said carrying over a platter of the green spheres, “and you, young man, are going to eat them, green or not, she ordered ruffling Salem’s hair. 

“Yes, Mrs. Rios.” 

“Oh, stop it, you! Hello, Vasily,” she continued cheerfully, rushing over after handing the platter to Rios and dragging him into a hug, “How was Budapest? It’s so good to see you again. Is it true, you will be staying for a while?” 

“Da, yes. For as long as Ilushka will have me,” he answered putting his hand over Salem’s and looking pointedly at Rios, “I hear that the desert is nice this time of year.” 

Rios looked up from pushing the Brussel Sprouts around the crackling grill surface, and they locked eyes. Tyannikov was baiting him. It was bait that he could not afford to take, at least not in front of Salem. 

“Ready for the steaks, Kimi,” he said refocusing, “and here, take the potatoes in and get them ready to go, please.” 

“On it,” she said stretching up on her tip toes and pecking him on the cheek, “back in a flash.” 

Twenty minutes later, they were seated around the redwood table eating. In the distance, heat lightening streaked across the sky illuminating the mountain tops. Salem was unusually quiet, answering questions but not starting conversation. Vasily was relieved that he was laughing though, it was a good sign that the messy day was being left behind, well at least for Salem. 

“So, Elliot I see that your Brussel Sprouts are gone. I assume that they were satisfactory.” 

“Ah, well, Kimi they were fucking green and tasted fucking green.” 

The petite woman laughed. She loved when Salem cursed. It showed that he was comfortable with her and felt secure enough to be himself. Rios, conversely, hated it, and she looked at the big man expecting him to correct smaller man. When he didn’t, she raised an eyebrow and looked at her husband quizzically. 

“What? You, you have nothing to to say, Tyson.” 

“About?” 

“Elliot’s language.” 

Rios just shrugged and kept eating. Everyone at the table looked at him. 

“What?” he grumbled while chewing. 

“Tyson Rios, what is going on here? Elliot?” 

“I don’t fucking know, Mrs. Rios. Mr. Rios, would you like to elucidate.” 

Tyson put his fork down, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, “Elucidate?” 

“Comes after elsewhere and before elude, in the dictionary, elucidate.” 

“Serious, is he serious right now?” 

Rios smiled and nodded his head, “Yea, he’s serious.” 

Kimi looked from one man to the other, “I’m gonna check. I have a dictionary. Anyone need anything from inside?” 

Once she was gone, Rios sat up straighter, “We good, Tyannikov?” He asked gruffly. 

“Yes, why wouldn’t we be, Mr. Rios.” 

“I see,” he snarled looking over his shoulder toward the house, “I Don’t think we want to do this here, do we, Tyannikov?” 

“Mr. Tyannikov.” 

“Come on, guys, please.” 

“I do not think you want to do it anywhere.” 

“Vasya? Please, I got this. I told you.” 

Rios stood up and started around the table, Vasily followed suit, but hearing the tone of Salem’s voice he stopped, “I am sorry, Ilushka. You are right.” 

“Got it! What is going on out here!” Kimi shouted seeing their aggressive stances, “I leave for five minutes, and you are at one another’s throats. Tyson!” 

He sat back down and pushed his plate away, “Nothing, Kimi. Everything is just fine.” 

“My apologies, Kimi. We got a little carried away.” 

“That’s better. Elucidate? Let’s see…you want to place a wager, Elliot?” 

Rios laughed and Vasily joined him. Kimi looked at them a bit befuddled. 

“Sure,” Salem said with certainty, “How about for one of those peach cobblers you make. I fucking love them.” 

“And if I win?” 

Salem scratched his head and considered his options, “What do you think, Vasya?” 

“You can make her your cinnamon bread pudding.” 

“You,” Rios said pointing at Salem, “you make bread pudding?” 

“I do, Mr. Rios. Bread pudding it is then. Open that bad boy up.” 

“Deal,” she agreed thumbing through the dictionary, “There is no way that you can know that. D’s, E’s, E-L oh my god, how?” 

Salem shrugged, “It…it is, was a hobby. On long ops, I’d read my dictionary. I like words. Not just curse words.” 

“He also has an eidetic memory, Kimi. Did you bring your dictionary, from Miami, Salem?” 

“Yea, Tyse. Never leave home without it. When can I expect my cobbler, Kimi?” 

“Oh, drat it all! I’ll bake it tomorrow morning early, and that lunk head can bring it in.” 

“Hear that, lunk head, I want my cobbler delivered to my office straight away and still warm.” 

“Yea, yea, I hear you Elliot. Are we all done eating?” 

Yesses and nods went round the table, and Rios stood up. He started stacking the plates, all empty, and Kimi stood to help. Vasily stood as well but felt a bit out of place, so he pushed Salem away from the table and back toward the pool. 

“Hey, where are you taking my labor, mister tall, dark and handsome Russian?” 

Vasily stopped, “Excuse me?” 

“He knows the deal. I rinse, and he loads the dishwasher. Let’s go, Oxford. Into the kitchen with you.” 

“Sorry, Vasya. Duty calls. Oxford?” 

“Yea, like the dictionary, and you two, try not to kill each other.” 

Once Salem and Kimi disappeared into the house, Rios walked farther away toward the pool. Vasily followed. He still felt like pounding him senseless, but it would serve no purpose. At the edge of the sparkling pool, they stopped. 

“I guess that he told you about Murray.” 

“He did.” 

Rios nodded, “If it matters, I was going to tell him, but circumstances tripped me up.” 

“Circumstances?” 

“It was the first time that he’d been in my office, and it was before I was ready.” 

“He blacked out?” 

“He did. Not long, but he came to into a flashback. I changed the voice like he asked.” 

“What baffles me, Rios, is why? Why would you do such a callous, selfish act? It denigrates her memory.” 

“Me callous, Tyannikov? Me? All I wanted was to remember her. All I wanted was to still have her voice in my ear like…like before Shanghai. You, how many years did you mourn what was his name?” 

“Illarion. Nearly ten. I loved him. I grieved him, but I never would have stolen his voice. Hearing her voice crushed him all over again, just when he was moving forward.” 

“That wasn’t my intention.” 

Vasily turned away from the pool and faced Rios. He nodded and ran his hand back through his hair. “This frustrates me, Rios. He puts on a brave face, but he is hurting again. You hurt him again.” 

“He put me in my place. Consider him heard.” 

“Do you ever hear him, Rios? Did you hear him for the nearly fifteen years you kept us apart? I do not think so, or you would not have taken him away from me again. You would not have allowed Murray to die for him again. I am not a violent man. A man of violence, yes…” 

“Not a violent man? You shattered his wrist after you’d already beaten him to a pulp.” 

Vasily had heard enough. He lunged forward and jabbed Rios in the chest with his right index finger, “And you, you bastard, you shot him!” he hissed inches from Rios’ face, “You did what hundreds of filthy bastards could not do. You broke him forever. You put a bullet in him that is still there. You are a coward who did not have courage to admit what you did, to own your decision. You have no right to hold me in contempt for low point in my life that I regret every minute of everyday, and that I have worked and worked to earn his forgiveness for. I have proved to him and to you my love and my devotion to him. So, do not ever again blame for that night, Rios.” 

“You’re crossing a line here, Tyannikov.” 

“Gladly.” 

“This isn’t about us.” 

“It is about us. I promised to play nice, Rios, for Ilushka, and I will. But be warned…” 

“What the hell are you calling him? What happened to Barsuhk?” 

Vasily took a step back, confused by the change in tack, “Call him?” 

“Ilushka?” 

“It is,” Vasily began, “term of endearment.” He watched the play of emotion on Rios’ face. They were not pleasant. 

“A term of endearment?” he growled leaning in angrily. Almost possessively Vasily thought. 

“Da,” he replied chuckling, “term of endearment. Sometimes, he does not want to be my little badger. Sometimes, he wants to be my little Elliot. My Ilushka. What is he to you?” 

“My brother. My-best-friend,” Rios rasped, “That, despite everything else, is the truth.” 

“And yet you resurrect your ex-girlfriend, Murray, a woman who you made rule that no one in company could fuck, who you fucked behind…don’t look so surprised, he knew…his back. Yet another deceit. When will deceit end, Mr. Rios?” 

“He came back to me!” 

“And he called _me_ to rescue him from _you_ “You are so full of shit, you Russian prick.” 

Vasily laughed, “And façade finally falls. I am here for duration. I…” 

“You make it sound like he is leaving.” 

“That is his choice, but it is my belief, Da.” 

“You are crazy, and this conversation is over.” 

Vasily chuckled this time evilly, and nodded, “Видит око, зуб неймет.” 

The hell does that mean?” 

"The eye can see, but tooth cannot bite.” 

While the two big operatives quarreled on the terrace, Salem and Kimi cleaned up the kitchen. The forty-three year, old pediatric nurse was of Swiss and Moroccan descent. The combination gave her an almost mystical look. Her skin tone was near porcelain white, and her inky blue black, arrow straight, shoulder length hair framed glacial blue eyes. She was beautiful, and the antithesis, Salem thought, of Samantha. Kimi was, to his great joy, four-foot nine, which meant that he was no longer the shortest of the group. Even at fifteen, Nala was five-nine and a half and still growing. Salem was completely enamored with her and felt that Rios was probably the luckiest man on earth to have met her. She treated him wonderfully, and unlike Samantha welcomed him into the family. 

“So, what happened today at work? How was your first day?” 

“It was fucking awesome.” 

She handed him another bowl and looked down at him, “Uhn-hanh, I know Tyson, and when he came home, he was in a mood.” 

“He’s always in a mood. Grumpy fucker.” 

“Well…not _always_. How did you like your office?” 

“Peachy, I could do without a talking assistant that comes from the ceiling but…” 

“I told him that you wouldn’t like that. No, remember the glasses go on the top.” 

“I named mine Barrett and picked voice number five.” 

Kimi stopped rinsing the salad bowl and shut the water off, “Elliot, did you go to Tyson’s office yet?” 

He pushed the drawer style dishwasher closed and rolled back from it, “Yea.” 

“Oh, no. I hated that he did that. I told him…oh, Elliot.” 

“It was horrible, Kimi,” he muttered leaning back and resting his hands in his lap, “The new people, new tech the fancy offices and I was overwhelmed. I called Vasily. Then that voice.” 

“Oh, I can’t imagine.” 

"Vasily isn’t fucking happy.” 

“I’m not happy. I warned him about using that voice. I asked him not to let you, you experience that. I am so, so sorry,” Kimi said her voice full of sympathy. She squatted down in front of him and took his hands in hers, “I don’t know if you truly want to be here or not, and I don’t know how to justify what Tyson Rios did to you in Shanghai, but I do know that my husband regrets that decision every morning that he wakes up and not because there turned out to be no bomb, but because he loves you.” 

“It is and has been, Kimi, a pretty fucking twisted love.” 

“I think so. And I think I want you to consider that he’s been through as much as you and not just Shanghai. The lives you two have led leave scars, Elliot.” 

Salem laughed bitterly, “That man isn’t scarred, Kimi, he’s dark. He has a blackness in him that runs deep. Me, I have a wildness,” he said squeezing his eyes shut and pulling his hands free. Then gesticulating, “me, I have a meanness in me here,” he banged his fist against his chest over his heart, “not because I want it, but because I had to to survive. I was small and alone, and if I didn’t life would have rolled me under before I even got started. But Tyse,” he shook his head and huffed, “Tyse, when he flicks that switch, Kimi, he is a whole different man. He is a monster, and I have been on the shitty end of that. And it took Shanghai and Vasily to show me that, that’s not love no matter how much I wanted it to be. I can’t get sucked back into his cess pool, Kimi. I’ll help him save TWO, because Shanghai was not our fault, and we did save seven million souls, but me and him…especially after Murray’s voice…now I don’t know what to believe. I want to believe in him. I want us back, Kimi, but it’s an us that’s not good for me. It could, will break me this time. I know better now. I…I have self worth now. Vasya gave that to me.” 

Kimi stood up and took a step back. His words had cut her deeply. When she’d first met Tyson, five years ago, the fractious nature of his and Salem’s relationship seemed nothing more than the typical work place friction. But hearing him now, hearing the depth of hurt and more so fear in his voice was troubling. Who had she married? Her Tyson, the bigger than life jovial, loving husband and father a dark cruel man? It couldn’t be. 

“Tyson cruel? I Know that you two bickered I know…” 

“Kimi, I love you like the sister I never had, and you are the best thing to happen to him, believe me. But for me I need to accept who he is. Look, I fucking said too much. What’s between me and Rios is our shit. I have my Tyse and you have yours. Deal?” 

“No, no deal, Elliot. I won’t allow him to hurt you and remain silent. So, if you need me you come to me. I will talk to him.” 

“Vasily’s here, Kimi. No way I’ll risk coming between you and Tyse. Had enough of that with Sam. Let’s get these dishes wrapped up.” 


End file.
